Todt Hill resident goes from baseball mound to top of Mt. Kilimanjaro

Photos by Danny MessinaDan Messina said that instead of exhilaration upon reaching the summit he was both physically and mentally drained after his 11-day journey.TODT HILL - His wife Debbie thinks he’s going to kill himself one day. His friends say go buy a red convertible. Some people at work give him a wide berth.

Danny Messina, who never gave a second thought to esoteric events during his pitching days at New Dorp HS and later Long Island University, has seen, conquered, and moved on from Mount Kilimanjaro.

“At some point you do a timeout, think about life,” philosophizes the Todt Hill resident. “How many times can you go to the beach on vacation? Sometimes, you crave for something totally different.”

So why not an 11-day, 5-climate change, death-defying boogie along the western breach of Africa’s highest mountain?

Surely those New York City marathons and that ho-hum cross training cannot compare to a wild jungle ride commandeered by Crocodile Dundee types, the 140 species of mammals — primates, antelopes, bats, cape buffalo, elephants — or even the last 800 vertical feet of snow/ice.

OK, it might be a bit more dangerous than the runs through Clove Lakes Park, but, hey, how many times can you tell your family and friends you took your life into your hands by scaling a 19,340-foot hill during vacation?

If you’re going to climb Kilimanjaro, Messina picked the warmest time of the year — January through March — when the temperatures at the peak rise to minus 18 degrees.

“Surprisingly, you don’t need any climbing experience,” says the chief operating officer at CentraState Healthcare System in Freehold, N.J. “This climb is not for the faint of heart. You do have to be in shape physically and mentally.”

All Messina had to do was get himself to Arusha, Tanzania and meet with the five other members of his group, which included Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist (Funky Winkerbean) Tom Batiuk.

The sextet of Americans were anxious, nervous and had no idea what lay ahead.

Kilimanjaro contains virtually every ecosystem on earth — glacier, snowfields, deserts, alpine moors, savannah bushland, and tropical jungle. You start out wearing a bikini but wind up donning five layers of clothing and asking yourself, “What the heck am I doing up here?!”

After a pleasant hike in the cedar and podocarpus forests of Mt. Meru (a baby at 14,980 feet), the group straps in for a three-hour (Messina calls harrowing at times), four-wheel ride by quasi-NASCAR drivers “across a dirt road” through the Kilimanjaro National Forest Reserve. After reorienting yourself to the ground, you meet the people who will save your life — your three guides and 46 porters who will precede with everything, including the kitchen sink.
Photo by Danny MessinaAt 19,300 feet, Mt. Kilimanjaro is Africa's tallest mountain.Beginning at 7,500 feet, you hike three-four hours to a forest camp at 9,000 feet. The next day you go a mere seven-eight hours past old lava flows to the rim of the Shira Plateau (11,300).

“As you pass these climate zones, the vegetation changes, but the scenery becomes more panoramic,” added Messina who carried just a backpack filled with changes of clothing, some snacks and plenty of water. “It is spectacular but by nighttime you’re ready to crash.”

By day eight, you’ve reached Arrow Glacier and the visuals aren’t something you get by crawling along the Staten Island Expressway.

The itinerary for day nine is almost laughable. “This is the toughest day (like the others were a walk in the park). You ascend by the steep but stunningly spectacular Western Breach route. You ascend on switchbacks — trails with hairpin bends — over frozen gravel and pass large boulders where you have to use your hands for balance,” said Messina. “You’ve got a three-foot ledge to negotiate and you don’t want to look down.” Having embarked at 4 a.m., this will take you into the late afternoon to reach the Furtwangler Glacier camp (18,500).

All that’s left for the final day of ascension is a 90-minute excursion, the final 800 feet. “It’s straight up; all ice, no ropes; pretty wild,” Messina recalls.

When Messina got to the “Roof of Africa” and a 360-degree view of the continent, he’s not exactly doing his one small-step-for-mankind mantra.

“I’d like to tell you I was exhilarated and totally excited. But, in reality, I was physically and mentally drained. I just wanted to take a picture and get out of there.”

Now, Messina had a second goal: Staten Island or bust.

“I guess with this trip, especially, you think about what you went through, the people you met and hiked with, and going back to your family. It takes time to re-orient yourself and get back into that day-to-day grind again.

“It’s a lot easier running at Clove Lakes,” he said.

Still, the itch will eventually return. It may be the running of the bulls in Pamplona or circumnavigating the globe in a hot-air balloon. He likes the base camp at Mount Everest.

“I can’t tell you how many times I said, “This is nuts. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I want to quit.